Dawn of Freedom
by Nikkie2010
Summary: G1:Every story has a beginning. Some are humble, others are hell. His was both. Wheeljack origin story , based on DragonDancer5150's Designation 24601 Wheeljack's history Please note: Wheeljack name is Slipgear in the first story. It will change later. Rating for abuse, language. Will change later
1. Chapter 1

Ok, this is my first fanfic, hope you enjoy. Positive criticism is welcome as well as any other comments.

**Credit: the original idea of this series was taken from DragonDancer5150's series _Designation 24601 or Wheeljacks origin. _The first sotry is based on the events in "Ignoble".**

Disclaimer: I do not own transformers characters, Hasbro or any affiliates. Slybit and Dreadvein are, to my knowledge, my own creations.

* * *

Chapter 1

_We know the road to freedom has always been stalked by death._  
_- __Angela Davis__ –_

"SLIPGEAR!"

His designation reverberated over the cold, foreboding tunnel walls. Slipgear knew that tone. Knew what it implied. He was in slag. He trembled, his spark racing as he heard the menacing footsteps approach him.

A painful grip on his shoulder forced him around while another heavy servo slammed into his jaw, knocking him back. The wall caught him before he hit the ground. The bigger bot stood menacingly over him.

"Your experiment failed yet again, _slave_."

Slipgear cowered before the looming presence of his overseer, not daring to look up or even open his optics. He had screwed up somehow, again. His experiment. _O slag_.

"I'm sorry. I can fix it." He managed to whimper. His reply was a vicious kick in the side.

"Get up! The Master wants to see you." The overseer sneered in his deep, guttural voice.

Slipgear's optics flew open in fear. _The Master wanted to see him._ This was very bad. The Master was ruthless, sparkless. He only cared about the profits his mines made. He never bothered with his slaves. Sparks were cheap to him. Too cheap. The only reason he would bother with seeing a slave… _Primus what will he do to me?_

"No, no please I beg you, I'll fix it! I'll…"

"Silence you incompetent, worthless piece of scrap metal!" the overseer bellowed, "I said get up or shall I _assist _you?_"_

Slipgear scrambled to his feet, his servos clasping at the pain in his sides. The lights of his fins flashing on the sides of his head, betraying his pain and nervousness. Luckily the mask over his face hid all but his terrified optics. The overseer smirked in his direction, shoving him into the tunnels that led to the administration station in the centre of the lucrative mine. Slipgear moved along shakily, too scared to contemplate what would happen to him once he reached the Master's office. The dark interior of the tunnels seemed to close in around him. He ran a finger along the walls as he walked to ensure himself that they were not trying to smother his spark out as everything else around him seemed to want to do.

"Move faster, _slave, _or do you want to keep the Master waitin'?" the overseer taunted. Slipgear picked up his pace.

They entered the main centre, the looming buildings casting long, evil shadows in the already poor lit centre. It felt like those shadowy talons were dragging him closer and closer to the inevitable. Slipgear began trembling. The overseer shoved him into the main building.

"Dreadvein, the Master is in his office, waiting." A data clerk said behind his shiny office, looking so out of place in the dirty, cold surroundings of the mine. He looked disgusted at Slipgear's presence, too, as if this pathetic creature in front of him was the very embodiment of all that was filthy and vulgar.

Slipgear looked at the floor. His processor was screaming at him to run, to get away, to flee from the pain that he was sure to come. _Escape the darkness_.

The data clerk opened the metal doors leading into the Master's office. A hard hand shoved him through the open door with enough force to make him stumble. He fell on his knees before a pair of pitch black legs. His trembling became more violent, yet he remained on his knees, trying to control his frame. He knew the mech before whom he knelt, and he was terrified.

A soft laugh escaped the imposing mech before him. _The Master._ Dreadvein grabbed Slipgear's slave collar and yanked it back, forcing him to look at the Master, while remaining on his knees. The Master was huge. Strong. Evil. His amber optics were cold, boring straight into him. Slipgear winced, trying to pull back from this menacing devil. The overseer applied more pressure to his collar, halting him.

"So, this is the scrapheap who thinks he's an engineer." Stated the cold, deadly voice.

"Yes Master. The same that has been caught sneaking into the administration centre, and _stealing_ engineering and science literature from outside the mine's networks. We have been trying to… _persuade _him to stop these antics, unsuccessfully. Designation, Slipgear."

The Master seemed not to care about his designation. Why should he? This junk was just a slave. A piece of merchandise at his mercy to do with whatever he pleased. He looked down at the offending slave. His optics narrowed dangerously.

"Then you can read. Tell me _slave_, how did you learn to read?"

Slipgear whimpered, his fear growing under the scrutiny of those hard eyes. Slaves created within the belly of these mines weren't supposed to be literate. They were not allowed to be literate. The files necessary to function had been pre-programmed. Yet he had learned. His thirst for knowledge had been intense. He had sought, and finally found, an outsider working in the mines that could teach him to read and write Cybertonian, although it had been at great cost to himself. The mech had taught him, albeit secretly, until he could read and write fluently, in exchange for most of his rations. Then they were discovered. He was beaten senseless, and the other mech, well he was never seen or heard from again.

A hand gripped his throat, in-between his collar and his jaw, tightening. "Answer the Master when he asks a question!" A thunderous voice bellowed in his audio receptors. He tried to move his head away but to no avail.

"A mech, from a-, from above, working in the mines, h-he taught me to read and write!" The words rushed out in gasps.

""What was his designation" that voice rang once again in his audios.

"C – Corrupter!" Slipgear squeaked. The trembling started again.

The Master looked at Dreadvein. The overseer simply shook his. "He was taken care of a while ago. He was here doing time for fraud…" his voice trailed away as the Master narrowed his optics at him. The overseer looked down.

"Your experiments, slave, has cost me valuable time and credits. Your so-called excavator contraption failed. Did you not say that it would work?"

Slipgear's processor was spinning. He knew where this was going. By answering he would be condemning himself to a fate that he did not yet know…maybe a level four punishment. Primus he had screwed up enough times already. He shuddered at the thought. Still, he had to answer, or it would definitively be a level four. Slag he only wanted to help. He knew he could make improvements to their operating systems that would save time and more importantly, lives.

"I-It was w-working c-correctly! The operating t-team must not have followed my i-instructions clearly! I explained that they should…"

"Are you implying that Gorelock is incompetent at handling machinery built by an incompetent slave?" The Master's voice was terrifyingly calm.

"NO! No, no the overseer is not incompetent! It's me! I should have been there and ensured that my excavator was operating properly! I only want to help! I have ideas, inventions that will increase the productivity of your mines Master! I just need a chance and a little access to more research!"

"Enough. Your so-called experiments have delayed operation in a very lucrative area of my mines, costing me profits. I think you should be reminded of your station, _slave._" He paused looking at the slave in front of him._ "_A level three will suffice" And with that he turned away.

"No please Master! I swear I'll be good! Your slave know his station! I'm worthless, no better than a drone with a spark! I'm not supposed to think! Just do the tasks assigned to me! Please mercy Master! I, I know my station!" Slipgear begged frantically as the overseer started dragging him off his knees out of the office.

The Master didn't even bother to look around again. After all, he had more important things to do. He had to examine the increase in profits. He scowled, sitting behind his enormous desk. Damn these fragging slaves were lazy. His profits had only gone up by 9 % since the last vorn. They needed to work harder.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Level 3_

Slipgear was locked in a cell to await his punishment. A level three. Thank Primus, it wasn't a level four, a fate worse than death, but it was still a level three. _I'm lucky_. He thought of the irony of the matter. He was a couple of cycles away from being whipped, publicly. And he was _thankful_ and _lucky _for it. A wry smile settled across his face. This was his life, his nightmare. He was sparked in these mines. It was all he knew. He has never even seen the light of day before. _Natural light_ as the miners that came from the top world called it. Everything in his world was artificial. He was raised amidst machinery and explosions. It was his world. It was his artificial world. But he wanted out. The miners from up top spoke about wonderful things. About cities where mechs could walk in the _natural light_ without a thought to anything other than what pleased them. It was a promise land. A land of dreams. The land of freedom. Slipgear wanted to go there. He wanted to be free.

He looked around at the guard, suddenly nervous. He sat on the cold cell floor as he waited. It was dangerous to entertain these ideas of freedom. If the overseers knew, he would be in even greater slag. If he was caught trying to escape, that would definitively qualify for a level four.

He sighed. What had gone wrong with the excavator this time? He was sure it would work. He had worked it all out. The math was perfect, or at least he thought it was perfect. If only the overseer had permitted him to operate it. But he was stuck cleaning machinery when he wasn't on duty mining the precious ore. It was his punishment for his previous failed experiment. He had received a level one for that – twenty stripes of the whip, reduced rations for a dozen orns, and cleaning of machinery when off-duty. He had been lucky. At least no lives had been lost. He really didn't want anybody to get hurt.

He sighed. How much more of this could he take? Involuntarily his mind turned back to that illusion called freedom. Was death like freedom? Or was freedom like death? In the mines, death meant you were free from suffering, free from the overseers, free from being used for their pleasure, free from being a worthless scrapheap not capable of anything else than doing the assigned tasks like a sparkles, senseless drone.

How many mechs had he known throughout his lifetime that had died in these mines? Their bodies usually just dragged away and dumped somewhere out of the way. No one cared. They were just merchandise. You didn't care because it was too painful to care. Slipgear had learned that early in his miserable life. All those he had cared about were either missing or dead. And in these mines, if you were missing, you were probably dead. Only the strong survived here. And he wasn't strong.

Slipgear must have dozed off because he suddenly awoke to the sound of his cell door opening. He looked up into the face of his overseer. It was blank. No emotion. He yanked Slipgear up and against the wall, leaning in close, their faceplate almost touching. He stroked Slipgear's check with the back of his servo.

"Time for your due, _slave._" He whispered softly, menacingly.

He threw Slipgear out of the cell. A guard caught him. His servos were tied in front of him. Slipgear's spark began to ache with the knowledge of what was coming.

He was lead through the labyrinth of corridors towards the 'outside' quart yard, in the middle of the main centre. The huge admin buildings could be seen looming over the quad, as if eager to be privy to the show to come. The other slaves were already assembled. They had no choice but to watch. It was the rule, to ensure that they always knew their stations. Yet they didn't care. Why should they. This was just another worthless slave. They simply didn't have the will or energy for that matter to care.

Slipgear was lead up unto the small platform at the right-hand side of the quad. Two guards bound his servos to a single beam running across the centre of the platform, leaving him almost hanging, utterly defenceless. The platform was covered in old, dried energon, evidence of the brutality that awaited him. He tried not to tremble. He tried to be brave. But his processor was screaming in pain already.

The two guards moved to the side. Dreadvein, his overseer, came forward holding a lace-whip. It was a powerful and fearful weapon. It was infused with pure energy intended to rip open the plating of a mech's frame, and then the more delicate wiring underneath. It was the slave's most feared enemy.

Slipgear offlined his optics, dragging deep cycles of air through his vents, trying to calm down.

The overseer drew back the whip, ready to strike. Slipgear gritted his mouthplates.

He let out a horrible, piercing scream as the first blow struck, feeling the fiery pain sear through his plating and into his neural network. Small energon veins were ripped open, causing the precious fluid to dribble out of his frame. The whip struck again and again, without mercy, without target. His neck, his legs, his back, all fell victim to the horrible searing pain of each lash. Sometimes it would wrap around his frame, ripping metal plating off his torso. It was all becoming a blur of pain. His feet slipping on the energon pooling at his feet. His energon. How many times has he already been struck, twenty-eight times?

The whip came down again. He felt the metal at his back cleave upon, energon now gushing from the open wounds. Still his overseer did not stop, would not stop until he was at the brink of death, or dead. The whip started tearing at the delicate wiring underneath the protective plating. It was pure agony. Slipgear was becoming too weak to scream loudly anymore. His frame simply tensed in pain at each new thrash, his vocals whining at each blow. He was losing too much energon.

Everything was becoming a distant blur. The sound of the whip as it came down, the satisfying grunts of his overseer, his own pitiful whimpering. Thankfully the pain was receding, but so too was the light. Finally, the welcoming darkness took him into its painless, cold embrace.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 is up. This introduces one of my OC's. If there exists another OC with the same name, I am blissfully unaware of it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers

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Chapter 3

_Slybit_

Slybit watched it all from among his _fellow_ slaves. He hated this. The kid had only tried to help. And frag it, he was a kid, a youngling. Now he was being whipped to the brink of death. He was barely recognisable at the moment. Slybit heaved heavily through his vents, offlining his optics for a moment. He was tired of this. So fragging tired of all of this. He looked around him. He hated every mech in this pit-spawned mine.

He had been serving time for Primus knows how long. He had been treated no better than a mindless drone, working endlessly for orns on end, all the while under the hateful eyes of the overseers and their Primuse-damned whips. But if given the choice to undid what he had done, he wouldn't take it. Those fraggers had deserved to die.

He grimaced as the overseer drew his whip back again. He had been part of the team that worked with the kid's excavator-machine-thing. It had the potential to work, had the overseer not completely disregarded everything the young slave had said. It had ended in a small explosion. Then again if the kid hadn't been crossing the line building slag again, he wouldn't have to work an extra shift.

He looked down as another scream ripped through the air. How many have had to share that same fate? How many had died after receiving such a fate? Only the strong survived. He had met the kid briefly while he had explained his lousy experiment. He wasn't strong. He was going to die. He had seen it all before.

The screams were getting softer, only to be replaced by the whistle of that cursed whip as it sliced through the air before slicing through the kid's all-ready broken plating. Slybit looked at him. He was coated in energon. His chassis, back, legs, everything, seemed ripped apart. He had stopped screaming now, his head sagging on his chassis. He had fallen into unconsciousness. _Or worse_. Slybit thought, then paused, maybe, worse was better.

The overseer finally stopped. All was quiet in the quad. "You there!" he said pointing in Slybit's direction, "Get this piece of scrap to his quarters" he motioned towards Slipgear's limp frame. Throwing a last, searing look as the limp form, he turned and marched off the platform, folding the whip back as he walked.

The other slaves started moving away. They wanted to drink their ration of energon and maybe get a few cycles of sleep before they had to start their shift again.

No one headed towards the platform.

Slybit sighed as he watched the other slaves disappear. He really didn't want anything to do with the kid. He had caused him more than enough trouble. Thanks to him and his fragged-up experiments, he now had to work an extra shift to make up for lost productivity. Yet he found himself heading to the platform anyway.

He untied Slipgear's bonds, catching the mech as he fell lifelessly to the ground. He checked Slipgear's spark resonance. The kid was surprisingly still alive.

"Guess death wasn't welcome with you at this point." Slybit sneered as he hoisted Slipgear over his shoulder. He started towards Sligear's quarters at the far end of the impound. All the permanent slaves' quarters were located in that area, designated as bloc B. _Thank Primus I'm not a permanent slave,_ Slybit thought as he adjusted Slipgear's dead weight over his shoulder.

Slipgear's quarters were located at the outer edges of bloc B. He entered the dimly lit room. It took a klik for his optics to adjust. The room was sparsely furnished, being a slave, one didn't really have the option of furnishing a room. In fact, the only furnishing was the kid's recharge berth. He walked towards it and laid him down.

"You had that coming kid." He said as he looked down at Slipgear's battered and broken frame.

A medic came through the open door heading for Slipgear. He immediately started assessing the damage and closing leaking energon lines essential for sustaining life. But that would be all he did. The perpetrator needs to suffer for whatever offence he committed. The medic didn't really care about the kid's state nor what he had done. His orders were to ensure the kid lived, not to fix him.

Slybit moved out of the way to accommodate the medic. As he did, he noticed the drawings on the walls and mathematical computations. His optics widened a bit in surprise. _Humph_._ Just like Quanto always did. _Slybit cursed furiously at himself for thinking about that name. He turned his attention back to the glyphs. _The kid's overseer better not see this. _

"You there, be sure to administer this in four cycles from now." The medic placed a bag of suspicious looking fluids on the edge of the berth. Then stood and walked out the small room.

"What the frag! I'm not his botsetter you piece of slag!" Slybit bit out at the retreating medic.

"You are now." And with that the medic disappeared around the corner.

Slybit was furious. _Great. Stuck here with a half-bit that probably knows slag and who's probably gonna die and my shift starts in 5 cycles. Ain't this going to be fraggin' fun._

* * *

Four cycles later Slybit was administrating the drugs. His mood had gone from bad to worse. _When I get out of this forsaken Pit I'm gonna track down that fraggin son of a glitch that put me here and make sure he dies real slow and painfully._

Slipgear moved. Slybit looked down at him, seething with anger.

"You wakin' up yet you slaggin glitch? You just ruined my whole shift and know I have to be here takin' care of the likes of you, ya half-bit. You should rather just slip back down into the bottomless pit of darkness and die like a good mech. No one will even miss ya."

"No," returned a pathetically weak voice.

"What?" Slybit asked in surprise. He had not expected the kid to answer. Perhaps this kid was tougher than he looked. Well, than he normally looked, at this stage he was looking pretty bad. Slybit shook his head. He _didn't_ care. For all he cared the pit-hounds could drag the kids sorry aft to the Pit. Toughness be fragged.

"No... won't die...not like this..." Slipgear wheezed, his voice trailing off at the end. He still hadn't onlined his optics. All he felt was pain. An overload of pain. His processor flashed warnings at him, listing the damages incurred. The mech's voice frightened him. He was afraid to online his optics. He had been beaten too many times.

"Yeah, well kid, I don't really see any other way for you to die. Besides, death would be better than this pit-spawned place." His words were bitter, but not as angry as it had been.

Slipgear finally onlined his optics. He was in his own quarters, his berth mercifully familiar under him. He looked at the mech sitting next to him through a blur of haziness and pain. The mech was larger than him, his frame built for hard labour. His paintjob was a collection of browns and yellows, with splashes of red in between. He was also filthy, covered in the soft dust of the ores which they mined. He probably hadn't been to the wash racks yet. He had no mask over his handsome faceplate, revealing white optics like his own. Slipgear did not recognise him. He was probably from up top. From the place where _natural light_ could be found.

Slipgear groaned as he closed his optics again. Slag he was in a lot of pain. Memories of what had happened were slowly returning. Thankfully the drugs were kicking in, subduing the pain, a bit. He had survived the level three. _Primus _he had s_urvived_. He had to get out of here.

"There…must be…a way out of this place…a way to escape."

Slybit looked at him disbelievingly, cocking his helm to the side. "Did you just say what I think you said? Kid your processor is fragged-up. The slag's just been whipped out of ya, and your thinking of escape? You must really be wishing for a level four."

Slipgear shut his optics again. The stranger was right. He was fragged-up. Has always been. His vents cycled air painfully through his frame, reminding him of his present condition. _I survived._ He turned towards the stranger.

"What's your designation?" he murmured.

"What?" Slybit looked at the mech again.

"Your designation?" Slipgear repeated a bit louder

"Why the Pit should I tell you anything? You just ruined my entire orn. From the moment you put that fraggin experiment of yours into use, to where I had to carry your sorry aft here and give you ya drugs." Slybit spat, still seething in irritation. He slung down the now-empty drug sachet and marched towards the door.

Slipgear swallowed. "I'm s-sorry, but th-thank-you." He slurred the words out. He was so tiered. Slag why was it so difficult to think? He tried to open his mouth to say more, but his frame wasn't responding. His vision became blurry as the lights slowly faded.

Slybit stopped at the door. Had that half-bit actually apologized?! He turned again to face the mech. But the kid had already drifted into recharge.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the delay in this chapter, my work schedule got in the way a bit. Reviews and positive criticism are more than welcome. Hope you enjoy.

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Chapter 4

The mining tunnels echoed with the sounds of metal scraping metal as slaves laboriously drilled, picked, and packed the precious ores into containers that would ship them to the surface. Humid air cycled through the tunnels, adding to the already pressing ambiance of the mine.

Slybit positioned the load on his back securely before heading to the containers. He looked around at the other slaves as they monotonously did the work assigned them. They might as well have been drones. Slybit revved in frustration. Was this it? Was this how he was supposed to live out the rest of his nearly immortal existence?

Snorting softly, he looked at the brainless bots again as he continued through the tunnels. A small, somewhat familiar murmur to his right caught his attention. Sparing a quick glance, he was surprised to see the kid working.

Or at least trying to work. Pit, how did he even manage to work? His frame was still cleaved open in places, with small energon leaks oozing from some of the wounds. Even across the tunnel he could hear the kid's vents cycling air painfully through his mutilated frame.

Slybit briefly considered the kid. Maybe he didn't have to live his life within these tunnels after all. The kid at least wasn't as dumb as a drone, and his knack for using tools could come in handy.

Slybit shifted the heavy load on his back to a more comfortable position and angled his way over. He needed to talk to the kid without drawing suspicion towards him. He knelt next to the kid with the intention of adding more minerals to his load.

"You're up sooner than I expected" he whispered, "It's only been five orns."

Slipgear jumped at the sound of his raspy voice. "Um yeah…Hi," He looked around nervously. He wasn't supposed to talk to any mech and he wasn't supposed to get distracted from his work either. The overseer had strictly forbaddin it. The overseer also tended to be watching him a lot more since the whipping. Thankfully he couldn't see the him or any of the guards.

Slybit also did a quick scan of the area before turning to Slipgear. They locked optics.

"Been thinking about what you said, about a way outa here, about escape. I'm in."

Slipgear looked horrified. Yes he had said that, or at least he remembered he had said something like that but it was in a drugged, semi-dead state, he wasn't thinking straight. He looked around again, terrified that someone might have heard them. He shuttered his optics as he thought about the whipping again. There wasn't a place in his frame that wasn't aching. And what if they did try to escape again and they were caught. They would both be punished severely, and he didn't want to cause anybody any harm. The mech before him wasn't onlined in this mine. He didn't know the consequences of such actions as much as Slipgear did.

"L-look you said yourself, I'm, I'm fragged-up, ok? There is no way to escape this place. Please for both of our sakes, don't say anything else. You don't know what they can do to you, t-to us."

Slybit started at him with cold optics that bore through him to his very spark. The oppressive heat in the tunnels seemed to double as Slipgear tried to think of ways to dissuade this mech from following through with this dangerous idea. He would only get himself killed or tortured.

"P-please, just do your w-work. You saw what they did to m-me. I am alive and I am t-thankful for it."

Slybit looked at him and smirked. "Yeah, _really_? Thankful? Too bad though, seems like life down here is better than death after all. Or _freedom_. Have you ever considered a life outside of here where you could do whatever you wanted, experiment to your spark's desire?"

"Experiment?"

"And nobody will tell you to stop."

Slipgear sighed. Experiments, he could work on all his many ideas. There was a certain project that had been dangling around in his mind. He already had a working hypothesis, and it would boost productivity for the mines tenfold. He smiled softly.

Slybit smiled deviously as he watched the various emotions play over the kid's faceplate. He was nearly there.

"Well, since you don't think it's worth it, I'd best be getting my workload finished." He readjusted his load and stepped past Slipgear.

_Freedom. Experiments._

"Wait."

Slybit turned slightly, arching his optic ridge at Slipgear.

"Yes?" he whispered.

"Do you think," Slipgear paused, he couldn't believe he was even asking this, "Do you think we have a chance?"

"If I didn't I wouldn't be here talkin' to you."

Slipgear looked at Slybit, as if trying to determine the truthfulness of his words, his fins flashing white nervously. They heard footsteps approaching.

"Meet me at entrance 2 of mine level 6 just before the change of shifts. We can talk then." Slybit ordered quickly as he walked away.

* * *

Slipgear was in a pit-lot of pain. His wounds were still raw, still healing, and he was working double shifts. This was all part of level three's punishment. They had also kept his rations at half the normal amount, which would ensure that his auto-repair functions were delayed as the energon was redirected to vital components. He was barely functioning.

_But I'm still functioning._ He thought to himself as he headed to entrance 2 of level 6. The other mech was already waiting.

"Thought you decided not to pitch. I was about to leave. Sure as the pit took your time getting here." He drawled soflty, sounding bored.

"I'm a bit slow at the moment." Slipgear replied sheepishly.

"Huh, you've always been slow."

Slipgear cringed inwardly at the insult. He mustn't care. It was the truth anyway. He knew that. They kept on telling him that he was after all marginally above the level of a drone.

Slybit looked at him, expecting him to react. He didn't. Slybit arched his optic ridge at the kid.

"What's your designation?" he growled.

"Slipgear."

"Huh, could have been worse, but I guess it suites you. Designation's Slybit"

Slipgear only nodded.

Slybit smiled, pleased with himself. The kid didn't show any resistance to his lead. He had established who the boss between the two of them was. Good. The kid was just a slave, and thus expendable if needs be. He already knew what the kid needed to do. Slybit regarded him for a moment.

"You are literate. I've seen the scribbling against your wall. You're so-called schematics for your useless experiments." He eyed the mech. "That requires knowledge of engineering. You must have learned that somewhere an' I know it wasn't in the mines. So where'd you learn?" He drawled as he walked over to Slipgear.

Slipgear's fins flashed nervously. Should he trust this mech? Did he really have a choice? If he backed out now, the mech might accuse him of trying to escape, and since he was already known as a trouble-maker, a level four will be his due. His vents started recycling air faster through his frame at the thought. No, he couldn't stay here. He wouldn't stay here. He didn't have any reason not to trust the mech in front of him, plus he was his only way of possible escape, or death. Whichever came first.

"I m-may have s-sneaked into the offices a c-couple of times to d-download a few research p-papers on engineering." He whispered.

Slybit grinned. Perfect. He wouldn't have to take the any risk with that part of the plan.

"What I need is the plans, or blueprints to the mines. It's a labyrinth down here, and I need to be able to get a good bearing on exactly where to go. What I do know is that the mines border the badlands. It's close to Blaster City, which lies in an eastern direction. If we can make it there, we can disappear." He was talking more to himself than Slipgear.

Slipgear cleared his vocals, "uhm, what about…" he pointed to his collar. All slaves wore them. They were tracking beacons as well as recognition collars, telling the social position of said mech as well as who the owner was. He had had his collar since the orn he onlined. In fact he was onlined wearing the damn thing. It was a constant reminder of what he was.

"Don't worry about that now. We will remove it soon enough. We need to save up enough energon. It may be a couple of orns before we could get some again once we are on our way."

Slipgear sighed. He was already running low on energon, he could ill-afford to save some for later use. Slybit went on with his schemes seemingly unaware of Slipgear.

"We would need to monitor the movements of the overseers and guards. Are there active patrols in the mines?"

"No, but all q-quarters are checked to ensure that a-all the s-slaves are accounted f-for. There is also a g-guard room at the entrance of all active t-tunnels. There are usually t-two gaurds and an overseer."

Slybit squinted. That was a wrench in his gears. Having guards at the entrances monitoring activity as well as checking quarters was a problem. He needed at least 6 or more cycles to get ahead, less than that and they will get caught. And he would rather kill himself than get caught again. _Damn that fraggin officer is going to pay big time. A 'level four' maybe, as they call it here. I'll torture him first. Make him wish to be dead, but keep him alive. Then I'll take his fellows and torture them in front of him. Forcing him to watch. Maybe he has a femme. Mmm, yes that might definitively be fun, haven't been with a femme in quite a while. Yeah, that would definitively be good pay-back.._. Slipgear's voice cut into his thoughts. What was the idiot saying now?

"…and that will buy us some time." Slipgear ended.

"Say that again." He barked.

"I s-said I could like maybe come up with s-some explosives, you know, kind of create a diversion, like a c-cave-in or s-something. If we disappear then, they might think we perished in the cave-in." Slipgear repeated softly, looking around to see if Slybit's outburst had attracted unnecessary attention. There was no one in sight.

"Mmm, yes, excellent. How soon can you start working on it? And it better not be one of your famous screw-ups."

"I-it won't and I c-can s-start r-right away."

Somewhere down the tunnel the shift siren sounded. It was time to wrap up this clandestine meeting.

"Sneak into the admin center again, download the maps needed, including the coordinates of the mine site and its approximate distance from Blaster City. And don't get caught this time, if you do, you're on your own! We will meet again in 14 orns. I'll find you."

With that Slybit left, disappearing through the dark tunnels like some kind of pit-creature. Slipgear shakily cycled air through his vents. Fourteen orns. At least that gave him some time to recover from his wounds. It would also give him some time to save up on energon that he sorely needed. He was scared. He often thought of escaping, but now he was actually doing something towards escaping. The thought sent a shiver through him, perhaps not entirely of fear.

Slipgear turned in the opposite direction. His shift was starting. Again. His processor flashed warnings of his injuries. Again. He sighed. He was dreading the next 12 cycles. He was tired. He was in pain. But he had his dreams and ideas to carry him through.


	5. Chapter 5

Ok...fifth chapter is up.** Thanks to ALL the people who reviewed it really means more to me than you can possibly think.** :) Your comments are valuable and I enjoy

reading them.

This chapter introduces another of my OC's. Dreadvein, or the overseer was already introduced in ch 1. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 5

_Accident_

Intoxica scurried through the darkened corridors of the mine, skilfully navigating her way around the twists and turns of the tunnels as they ran deeper into the dark labyrinth. She had one mission: she had to see the overseer of level 5.

Dodging, she spat curses to another slave as he nearly stepped on her. The slave retreated in fear, quickly apologising for his incompetence. She ignored him. As a microbot, she was exempt from the tasks most of the slaves had to do. The microbots were too small for hard labour in the tunnels, and neither were they suited to be used as pleasure bots like the bots on level 2. They had their own sinister uses, and because of that, they were feared.

Intoxica skidded to a halt before the guard house. It was a simple room built into the tunnel walls. One guard permanently stood guard at the entrance. Transforming, she sauntered over to him, her little frame barely reaching above his knees.

"I seek Dreadvein, is he here?" she purred.

The guard looked down at her. Her white optics burned mischievously in contrast to her dark blue paint. She cocked her head to one side, casting him a smile so promising yet at the same time foreboding. He jerked his head in the direction of the door. He did not dare react to that smile.

Intoxica smiled slyly and opened the door. Dreadvein was sitting in the centre of the brightly lit room scanning the contents of a datapad. He didn't bother to look up as Intoxica draped herself over the chair opposite him.

Intoxica let her optics dwell on his large, powerful frame. He reeked of danger and unbridled passion. He was feared by his fellow overseers, the only thing they feared more was the Master of the mines. She loved it. It made it all the more enjoyable to be in his company, to be his exclusive little _pet_. It gave her power, a power she was all too willing to trade favours for.

"Have you nothing better to do than stare at your master?" his deep baritone voice sent thrills through her. She revved her engine gently.

"I have one particular thing I could do but it requires you to put the datapad aside" she replied coyly.

Dreadvein glared at her, hungry optics roaming her small, delicate frame, contemplating. After a breem, he placed the datapad on the table and leaned back in his chair. An invitation.

Intoxica didn't hesitate to take it. She slid off her chair and advanced towards him.

"Should I lock the door?" she asked sweetly.

"My guards know better than to disturb me when I am occupied."

Dreadvein hoisted Intoxica up onto his lap, pulling her delicate body close. She smiled deviously at him as she started playing with sensitive wiring underneath his chest armour. He revved his engine in response, encouraging her to become bolder in her perusal of his frame, their magnetic fields pushing into each other, causing their frames to tremble with anticipation and pleasure. Intoxica pushed her frame against his chest eagerly, revving impatiently, while Dreadvein's claws ran ravaged her back. Interfacing with him was always rough, sometimes painful, but definitively worth it.

Suddenly, a searing pain shot through her frame as sharp claws were driven into her back, causing her to arch and gasp in pain. Dreadvein stared coolly down at her contorted faceplate, his own devoid of any expression. Grasping her chin in his other servo, he forced her to look at him.

"Before I take my pleasure from your little devious frame, you will first report to me what I want to know."

Wide, fearful optics stared into his. "I couldn't find anything!" she gasped brokenly.

Dreadvein softly stroked her chin with his claw. "Now, now my pet, are you sure? He's always planning something."

She groaned in pain, Dreadvein lessened the pressure in her back to allow her to answer him, pleased with her pain.

"I've been watching him, just like you asked me too, but it doesn't seem like he's planning anything! He's been doing his work without complaint or mishap, I swear it!"

"You had better, or else…" he increased pressure again, feeling her rigid frame arched even more as energon seeped through his talons.

Intoxica cried out, fear gripping her like icy tentacles. She could feel energon escaping her body through the fresh wounds in her back; she also knew that one wrong word now could possibly mean her death. Dreadvein had _never_ done this to her before. He loved inducing pain, it was part of his twisted love-making, but this, this was something different. She dragged air shakily through her vents as she forced herself to relax. She smiled at him, faking an air of nonchalance.

"I'll continue to watch him, but you've never bothered to keep tabs on him before. Why now?" she dared to ask as she draped an arm around his neck, leaning into him as far as she could while ignoring the pain shooting up her frame.

Malign amusement crept into Dreadvein's optics as he regarded her. She had metal to question him like this. He removed his claws from her back and felt her frame slump onto his chest as she sighed in relief, her delicate fingers once again beginning to tickle and tease at the wiring underneath his armour.

"My interest in him is not your concern, pet. Your concern is doing what I tell, and what I want, you to do."

Fury suddenly enveloped Intoxica. The fear that had frozen her into place a few clicks ago rapidly evaporated in the flames of jealousy. She pushed herself off Dreadvein's chest glaring into his optics.

"Your _interest_ in _him_?" she spat out, optics showing flecks of red as she considered the possibility of being _replaced_ by a mere slave that wasn't even into his second adult frame. She couldn't afford to lose Dreadvein's interest, didn't want to. "He's nothing compared to me! I thought you had me watch him for his crazy ideas, but you had me monitoring him for you! For what!? So that he could replace me! He will _never_ replace me!" she hissed furiously

Dreadvein laughed softly. It was a sinister, dangerous sound laced with dark amusement. He took Intoxica's furious faceplate between both his clawed, energon-stained servos and pressed his forehead against hers. Her frame went rigid as their optics locked.

"I can interface with whomever I want _pet. _And even though I find your pettish little tantrum _amusing_, you will do well to remember your station. Am I clear?"

Intoxica nodded sulkily as Dreadvein's arm slid down her frame to encircle her tiny waist.

"That's a good pet. Now, where were we before our little interlude?"

Slipgear busied himself filling ore deposit boxes inside tunnel 7, level 5. Thankfully he was permitted to do this work, and not drillings or demolitions which would have been too strenuous for his recovering frame. His processor was working overtime, ensuring that his and Slybit's plans were still safe and hidden from the omnipresent threat of discovery. He had nearly been caught sneaking into the admin centre to download the maps. Thankfully the guard had been distracted by another slave. He had monitored the guards as well as they did their rounds, started their shifts, and terrorised the slaves. He was fairly positive that he had a good inclination of their schedules. The only little problem was indeed a little problem – a microbot. She was always in his vicinity, making it difficult for him to work on the bombs. It was almost as if she was watching him. He glanced around. She was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he was overreacting, allowing his fears of discovery to play with him. He cycled air through his vents to calm his warring systems. Perhaps now that he was alone, he could work on his explosives, since they were supposed to be finished when he and Slybit met again, and that was on the next orn.

A deafening sound suddenly filled the mines followed by agonizing screams reverberating throughout the tunnels. Slipgear jumped up at the sound just as sirens started shrieking around him. _Another cave-in_. He thought despairingly. Guards came careening past him at break-neck speeds. He transformed and fell in behind them as they made their way to the source of the cave-in.

_Please, please don't let anybody be dead!_ He pleaded.

Dreadvein sat with Intoxica still on his lap, leaning exhaustedly against his chest and purring like a cybercat as he stroked her dark, bruised frame.

"That was exhilarating," she huskily whispered against his hard chest. Dreadvein revved in agreement. They were both still recovering from the aftermath of their devouring, feral passions.

Intoxica abruptly sat up and turned her head to the door.

"Did you hear that? It sounded like.."she was cut-off in midsentence by the loud shrieking of sirens.

The consoles lit up the guard room as a red lights flickered rhythmically. Warnings ran across the monitors announcing the collapse of tunnel 6 and a subsequent halt in mining activities until the debris can be cleared.

Dreadvein sighed. Another cave-in, this fifth one this vorn if he remembered correctly. He was going to kill someone for this. He got up heavily from the chair, lifting Intoxica to sit on his shoulder.

He growled irritatingly as he headed for the door.

Slipgear looked on in horror as they came upon the scene. The cave-in had happened in tunnel 6, a new area that they had recently started excavating. The piercing sound of drilling filled the oppressive air while small particles of metallic dust and ore swirled and danced around as if performing a teasing, ritualistic death dance. Emergency lights flickered desperately as they tried to hold the looming shadows at bay.

Slipgear continued staring at the scene. He felt sick as he looked at a pile of dead frames. A guard grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him forward, barking in his audios to start moving the rubble away. Slipgear winced as the guard let go. The other slaves were already occupied with rolling rubble away to clear the tunnel. Following their lead, he grabbed the nearest metal debris and shoved it aside. His optics fell on something half hidden by the rubble. His spark sank as he realised what it was. A servo.

"There's a mech buried here!" He cried out. The other slaves turned dull optics toward him, their expressions dead and uncaring. The guards shouted at them to continue what they're doing. None moved to help him or their fellow miner buried underneath the rubble.

Slipgear stared at them in utter disbelief for a click, and then frantically grabbed at the debris surrounding the servo, throwing it to the side. His frame protested painfully, but he ignored it, pushing himself to clear the debris faster. The mech might still be alive.

The mech was nearly free, just one more piece of debris pinning his lower frame. Slipgear tried to lift the large slab of debris off the mech, but to no avail. He was too weak, his frame too sore to obey his commands.

"Please, help me!" he cried out desperately.

Suddenly the slab was lifted, the action so sudden that it surprised Slipgear who nearly fell forward as his grip failed. Slipgear turned to look at his abettor.

"Slag it kid! Drag him out of there this fraggin' thing's heavy!" Slybit spat as he held the slab.

Slipgear grabbed the mech and heaving with all his might, managed to drag him from under the debris just as Slybit let go of the slab, cursing.

Slipgear knelt next to the mech cradling his upper torso as he checked for a spark resonance. His sensors finally picked up a faint signal.

"He's alive! He needs a medic!" Slipgear called over his shoulder. A guard cursed as he came over to them. He looked at the crushed frame, turned and left.

"Finish clearing the debris! The mines need to keep going! We're losing production time!" he barked over his shoulder.

"Wait! He's…"

Slipgear stopped as Slybit grabbed his arm, sending him a warning look that told Slipgear to drop it. Slipgear stared at Slybit, his faceplace contorted in shock as it dawned on him that nobody was going to help the mech.

Slipgear dropped his optics to rest on the damaged mech. If they hurried, a medic could still save his life, he wasn't beyond repair. It was simply because he was a slave, and not _worth_ anything.

The injured miner onlined his optics, groaning in pain as he tried to move. Slipgear rocked gently back and forth, trying to comfort the miner.

"Ssh, don't move, you're injured, bad, but we'll g-get you fixed soon. Just, just d-don't try to move"

Energon was pooling around the mech's frame, covering Slipgear as he held him, his dim optics flickering with the battle to stay online. Slipgear didn't know what to do. He looked at Slybit, hoping that somehow he can help. Slybit shook his head and cursed.

"Crushed chest. He's most likely got a broken sparkcase. Ye can't help him." He stood up and went over to the rubble to aid in clearing it away so that mining can continue.

Slipgear looked down at the mech, the mech was staring at him with those flickering, haunting optics filled with something Slipgear didn't now, pain, perhaps pity, even…relief? The miner laboriously grabbed Slipgear's servo in his own, squeezing it with all the might he had left. Slipgear wanted to say something, wanted to help him, to ease him, but he couldn't think of anything to say, of anything to do. He opened his mouth, but before a sound could slip out, the mech's optics went dark, his frame shuddered, and then he was gone.

Slipgear sat immobile, still gently rocking the dead mech. A shout alerted him that they had found another dead frame. He looked at it through hazy optics as it was shoved out of the way. It was thrown on the rest of the debris as if it was nothing more. It had been a life, a pulsing spark, and no matter how poor, how crude, how insignificant; it had still been a life. And it meant nothing to anybody.

Slipgear finally let go of the dead mech, laying him down carefully. He couldn't bear to watch the frame any longer. He turned his head away, and locked optics with a small, dark, familiar microbot. He was struck by the ferocity of her glare. Slipgear shuddered, looking down quickly. He could sense the burning hatred in those smouldering optics as she was seated regally on the overseer's shoulder.

The overseer, on the other hand, stood like a block of ice observing the scene. His optics fell on Slipgear, perusing him from head to pedes like a merchant asserting the quality of his merchandise. And he liked his merchandise.

Slipgear fidgeted as he felt the overseer's stare mingled with that of his pet. He always felt extremely nervous whenever the overseer was within his vicinity. Since the whipping, the overseer had been in his vicinity a lot more than usual. He hurried over to Slybit, feeling somewhat safer in the older bot's crude presence.

Slybit had been watching the whole, wordless exchange, and it had spoken volumes. How the overseer had eyed the kid, how his little _pet_ had glared at the kid, and he knew what it meant. And it made him furious. Slag this was a definitively a wrench in his gears. Logic told him to get rid of the kid as soon as he could, but on the other hand…

"You're being watched. Go work that side. I'll meet with you soon." Slybit intoned softly, even though the noise of drilling made it almost impossible to hear him.

Slipgear's shoulders sagged as he gave a small nod. However before he could leave, Slybit took hold of his servo. Slipgear cast him weary glance, his optics dim with both physical and emotional pain.

Casting a glance in the direction of the overseer, Slybit gave a final soft warning.

"Kid, be careful."


	6. Chapter 6

Not a long chapter I know...but I've been awfully busy the past week with work and meetings that needs to be completed within the next two weeks. But I decided to quickly post this. Warning though, updates may be a little irregular for the next three weeks but I will try to post every Sunday as usual.

Reviews, comments and positive critique are welcome...thanks to **Guest **and **Demonsurfer** for their reviews it's appreciated more than you know! ;) Also a big thank-you goes to Patty who remains a true and most encouraging friend and mentor! Merci mon amie! :)

Well enjoy...

Chapter 6

_Silence_

Five orns had passed since the accident, and the mine was back to its normal functioning level. Slipgear absentmindedly filled an ore deposit box, his processor dwelling on the events of the accident. He couldn't forget the mech that had died. He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts only to have his mind whirl to Slybit's warning. He had kept on his guard since then, and he had been disturbed to find the overseer more times than not lingering in his vicinity, watching him. Was he onto their plans? At least the vicious little microbot was nowhere in sight, not that that was any comfort. The microbots were notorious for gathering illicit information throughout the mines. Slipgear just prayed to Primus that they hadn't caught on to their plans of escape. He would have to tell Slybit of the possibility of it though, whenever they met again. Eighteen orns had already passed since their first meeting, and Slipgear was getting worried that after the events at the cave-in that Slybit may have changed his mind.

"Don't look so tense."

Slipgear nearly jumped out of his frame as the grating voice spoke behind him. He glanced nervously over his shoulder, acknowledging Slybit.

"I-I was just thinking about you, didn't expect you to s-surprise me like that." Slipgear admitted.

"I'm flattered." Slybit sneered.

Slybit picked up an ore deposit box Slipgear had filled and motioned Slipgear to do the same. He cast a cursory glance at the other mechs working in the tunnel. None of them seemed interested in the two of them. He looked around once more, searching specifically for the overseer or his fraggin' microbot. He didn't see either of them.

"Follow me."

Slipgear hoisted his second deposit box onto his shoulder before following Slybit wordlessly.

Slybit lead them a small way down tunnel 7, then turned into a dimly lit side tunnel. The ore had already been mined from this tunnel, leaving it cold and dark. The deeper they advanced, the more the darkness encompassed them like a thick, suffocating blanket. Slipgear hated the darkness. It was empty, cold and foreboding. It was the dwelling of pit-hounds and all manners of evil, and it had been his world since the day he onlined.

They continued in the dark with only the echo of their soft metallic treads to break the silence. Slipgear kept throwing glances over his shoulder, hoping no one had seen them enter this tunnel together.

Slybit stopped abruptly, causing Slipgear to bump into him. He narrowed his optics ominously at Slipgear.

"Do you have it?"

"Yeah, I-I g-got what you w-wanted. I also finished the d-device."

"Device?"

"For the explosives. C-can't set them off when we are in the p-proximity." Slipgear stuttered. He hated stuttering, but he always stuttered when he was nervous, and at his point in time, he was very nervous. If they were caught now, it would definitively qualify for a level four. An involuntary shudder racked his frame.

Slybit eyed him. He held out his servo. "Give me the datapad with the maps. Keep the explosives with you." He was well aware of Slipgear's reputation with explosives, and he wasn't taking any chances.

First ensuring that the maps were on the display, Slipgear handed Slybit the datapad. Slybit took it and began exploring possible routs of escape. He studied the maps for a long time.

Slipgear wondered around the empty cavern waiting for Slybit to finish. The sirens would sound soon, signalling the beginning of their second shifts. He just hoped the overseer hadn't noticed that he was missing.

Slipgear froze as he heard something scrape against the metallic walls. He stared into the darkness, desperately trying to find the source of the noise. Slipgear squeaked as a cy-rat scurried across the floor.

"Didn't I tell ya to relax kid?" Slybit growled.

"S-sorry. Just a bit nervous, I geuss." Slybit moved back towards Slipgear, still eyeing the omnious darkness with a good amount of distrust. A breem passed before Slybit finally straightened up from the datapads.

"I'lll contact you again when I'm ready, but for now, I need to study these slaggers." He held up the datapad before placing it in his subspace. He eyed Slipgear critically, noting the way his shoulders drooped, the way his fins flashed dully as he started down at his hands. The kid looked like slag, and this time not all of it was due to his exterior. He sighed, pinching his olfactory bridge between his optics.

"Kid you need to pull ya act together. I know it's hard, but try to forget that mech. Ya couldn't help him."

Slipgears head shot up. "Forget him? He's all I have been thinking of! His life was worthless! Nobody cared to help him at all! They just left him, as if he was part of the debris that needed to be cleared out of the way."

"Keep your voice down for Pit's sake! At least you cared about him that's somethin' ain't it!"

"Is that enough? That one bot he didn't even know and who didn't even know him cared?" Slipgear whispered.

Slybit walked up to Slipgear, taking him roughly by the shoulders and giving him a brisk shake. He needed Slybit to keep it together. They were almost out of this place; they were so close to freedom he could taste it.

"Within the next two or three orns, we'll be free of this fraggin pit-hole. Then you can care for everybot ye find. Become an engineer or some-such thing. But ye have to keep it together first, we only get one shot. If you're as smart as I think ye are, then you'd know that." He stated firmly. He squeezed Slipgear's shoulders in encouragement, before abruptly turning and disappearing into the cold cloak of darkness.

Slipgear watched him go. He knew they only had one shot at escaping. If the Master of the mines should even suspect something was wrong or that they planned anything…

Slipgear looked around the tunnel as if it might be privy to his thoughts. His spine tingled slightly as he thought his sensor grid picked up a spark resonance. He glanced down at it again, then into the darkness. He jumped as the cy-rat came screeching past him again, annoyed that Slipgear hadn't yet left his precious, lonely sanctuary.

Slipgear sighed. He was overreacting again. He forced himself to think positively as he sauntered over to collect his deposit box. If they succeeded, he would try to become an engineer. No, he _would_ become an engineer, no matter how long it took him, he would become one.

"Yes, the best engineer there will ever be. And I will make inventions to help, and to save, lives." He promised the silence.

The siren sounded in the distance. He quickly grabbed his deposit box and headed back towards tunnel 7.

Slipgear's receding footsteps echoed into the darkness, leaving in its wake an eerie silence.

A soft laugh escaped that silence.

"Don't be too sure _slave_, the Master don't like slaves who think above their station, and neither do I." It whispered quietly in return.


	7. Chapter 7

My sincerest thanks to all those who reviewed - **SunnySidesofBlue, Geust, and DemonSurfer**! :) Cyber-hugs to you all! :)

I especially want to thank my dearest friend, **Patty,** and my wonderful beta-reader **IAmStarscream,** for all the help, pointers and encouragements they have given me.

Chapter 7

_Discovered_

The second shift started routinely on time. The dead-to-the-world minors carried on with their duties with drone-like efficiency, not caring about any other spark-resonances on their scanners. The flickering lights threw strange dancing shadows over their expressionless faceplates in a mock dance of weariness and disdain. Shadows stared down at the bots, their thick, oppressive presence taunted the mindless mechs as they toiled endlessly, orn after orn, vorn after vorn.

For the umpteenth time Slipgear glanced back at the looming shadows, half expecting to meet real optics staring back at him. Nervousness gnawed at the bottom of his tanks. He glanced around at the other slaves working with him, piling ore into the various deposit boxes. None of them seemed to be watching him, none of them even seemed aware of anything else except the task at hand. _Ok, cool down, Slipgear, you're just imagining things. Things will work out alright. Don't go fritzin' on me now._ He repeated to himself again. But still the gnawing feeling that he was being watched lingered.

He shook his head as he tried to push the thoughts aside. He increased his working pace, packing the ore as quickly as possible in the hopes that it would distract him from his inner turbulences, but his processor wouldn't grant him reprieve. Deep down he knew something was wrong. He felt it in the oppressive, stale air swirling around his frame. His hand rested on the ore deposit box, shutting his optics, he drew raspy breaths of air through his vents, hoping to calm himself.

The gentle, stale breeze wafted past him, caressing his frame for a moment before moving down into the ill-lit tunnels of the mine. Silence embraced him next – a dreadful, knowing silence that he had felt two orns prior in the aftermath of his clandestine meeting with Slybit. A deep sense of foreboding settled on him once again.

"You seem distracted, s_lave." _A deep, throaty voice growled behind him.

Cold astral fingers clutched at his spark, sending cold currents of dread threading through every wire in his being. Poisonous intent dripped from every word that had been spoken. Slipgear's frame trembled, his processor screaming to him to respond, but his frame unwilling to move, paralysed by the fear that now enveloped him. _What did the overseer want? Could he possibly know?_

"ANSWER ME!"

A fist slammed violently into the back of his head, causing Slipgear to cry out in pain as he pitched forward. Before he hit the floor, the overseer's storm grey arm caught him, flingin him back against the tunnel wall. Slipgear's smaller, bruised frame rattled as undisguised fear lit his optics. Dreadvein moved in closer, their frames nearly touching as he glared devilishly at Slipgear.

"No, no, I-I'm not d-distracted. I have been doing my work and more! I've done n-no experiments!" Slipgear gasped, alarmed at the close proximity of his overseer. Something was definitively wrong. He felt it in the tension of the overseer's frame, the hunger in his optics, the heat radiating off him, and it scared him. He had never seen or felt his overseer like this.

The overseer sneered at him, light glinting wickedly in his optics. He leaned even closer, his big frame dominating over Slipgear's smaller frame as their chest plates touched. He leaned down to place his mouthplates next to Slipgear's audios, nearly touching them. Slipgear squirmed in discomfort as his processor shrieked at him to fight, to get away, yet he couldn't move.

Dreadvein slowly, sadistically scraped a claw down Slipgear's faceplate, his mouthplates turned up at the corners as he felt the younger mech's frame tremble against his own. He relished in the fear rolling off this pathetic excuse of a spark. The fear made him feel powerful, it made him feel in control. "Are you sure, _slave?" _Dreadvein purred, moving his faceplate so that their optics met.

Slipgear's spark fell. His world came crashing to a halt as his realised with extreme clarity what those words meant. _He knows! Primus he knows! _He felt numb in the revelation. He wanted so badly to purge. This time, there would be no escaping a level four.

The stale breeze once again flitted past them, but instead of a warm caress, icy cold tentacles cut through Slipgear. The shadows darkened, leaning in for a better view at the spectacle before them, laughing and dancing on the walls on over his body as the dim lights flickered nervously in the eerie corridors. Thick silence once again threatened to smother Slipgear as his world zoomed out and focussed solely on the two red optics glaring into his.

Dreadvein grinned as he saw the truth register with Slipgear, his dark faceplate grotesquely altered with a combination of horrible pleasure and lust. He had always had an optic on this mech, watching him close since the orn he on-lined. The whipping had merely served as a way of endearment. He still cherished the screams and sound of Slipgear's armour plating being torn. Yet, the unsatisfied beast inside him hungered for more, and he was going to get his fill.

The claw that scraped alongside his faceplate traced a path down, tracing the energon lines in Slipgear's neck. How easy it would be to snap one of them, watch the precious blue liquid create delicate running streams down his frame. Slipgear turned his head away, his vents cycled air desperately to aide his fans as they tried to cool his burning internals. He was too close to his overseer, and the feeling of his larger frame against his own sickened.

Dreadvein let his optics roam over Slipgear's frame. It was in good condition, surprisingly well-kept for a miner. He let his clawed hands roam over Slipgear's frame, excited by the tension he felt as Slipgear squirmed under the touch.

He knew Slipgear would be severely punished for his betrayal when the Master learned of the plan. A level four would be his punishment. And since he was Slipgear's overseer, he would be in command of administering it. He was looking forward to seeing this piece of scrap writhe in pain. He revved deeply as he scraped his frame against Slipgear. Slipgear squirmed harder, his frame finally yielding to his commands as he desperately tried to free himself from the monster looming over him.

Dreadvein laughed at Slipgear's attempts to ward him off. His frame was practically radiating terror as he fought, only to have Dreadvein push him harder into the wall, nipping at his neck. Slipgear threw his head back as a strangled moan escaped him. He struggled harder, desperately seeking help. His optics caught those of another miner, staring blandly at him. Slipgear mouthed a silent 'Help me', but the miner simply dropped his gaze and continued working. His spark sank when he realised that no one would come to his aid. He had to fight alone. Another groan escaped Slipgear as he wiggled his arm between his and Dreadvein's chests. Finally managing it, he pushed as hard as he could, inching the beast away from him.

Dreadvein laughed sickeningly as he leaned back, pleased with the futile, pathetic resistance. He grabbed Slipgear by his collar, swinging Slipgear into his frame as he continued to struggle. He would finish this in more comfortable courters. Half-dragging, half-carrying Slipgear, he marched towards the entrance of level five.

Slipgear cried out in pain as his wounds objected to the rough treatment. He tried to lash out at Dreadvein, his urge to get away from him overriding all other senses. The other slaves glanced up timidly to see the source of the commotion, but cowered in fear at the sight of their powerful overseer hauling Slipgear away. They continued their work as if nothing had just happened. One miner dared a second look at the fighting young mech, then sighed and continued his work.

Slipgear was being dragged to the small guard room built into the side of the mine tunnel. Slipgear trembled as they drew near, his will to fight slowly dying down as pain and fear seared up his frame. A single guard stood on duty at the entrance.

"Stay outside. Tell the others to wait outside when they arrive." Dreadvein barked.

The door slid open to allow Slipgear and the overseer access to the room. A small, indignant figure flew up where she sat at the table, flinging the datapad she held to the floor. Her frame went rigid as she laid burning optics into Slipgear.

"WHAT IS HE DOING HERE!" She screeched in feral fury as she flung a finger at Slipgear.

"Get out, pet, I've no time for your pettiness." Dreadvein ordered the small femme as he jerked his head towards the door. Intoxica stood defiantly for an astrosecond, her little frame bristling as she glared with utter contempt and scorn at Slipgear. Snarling select curse words at him, she stalked out of the room without a second glance at her master. The door closed with a hiss of finality.

Slipgear was flung onto the floor. He backed into the corner, cowering from the menacing, hungry beast that stood powerfully before him. Dreadvein's large, grey frame radiated a dangerous, burning heat, sending his fans whirring at top speed. Deep-set red optics bored into icy-blue ones as he slowly advanced, relishing every moment as Slipgear sank lower into the corner. A low, guttural growl escaped his broad chest as he looked at his prey with a satisfied smiled. Slipgear cycles became ragged as waves of fear hit him, making it difficult to think, to move.

Dreadvein kneeled before Slipgear, bracing his hands on the walls on either side. His horned head leaned in closely to Slipgear's, brushing their foreheads to release a small magnetic pulse. Slipgear whimpered as he tried to back away further, only to be caught by Dreadvein's hand, pulling him closer. Dreadvein's other hand slid down Slipgear's back, tightening his hold as he once again started nibbling at Slipgear's neck. Slipgear arched, a choked cry escaping him as he tried to push away.

Dreadvein revved in pleasure, picking Slipgear up and slamming him against the wall, satisfied when another cry escaped him. He let his one hand rove over Slipgear's frame, teasing, pulling, enticing, pleased when he felt the mech's frame beneath him writhe and struggle in terror and pain. Dreadvein laughed cruelly and only pushed his frame harder against Slipgear, revving deeply as his hand made his way to Slipgear's neck toying with the energon lines. He slid a claw under one of the lines, and pulled, severing the line and causing energon to spurt out, covering him in the slick, warm liquid. Slipgear arched in pain as he threw his head back, screaming.

Dreadvein smiled, playing with the severed line. He enjoyed this, but the real fun was in ravaging the mind. Dreadvein popped open his interfacing panel, extending the cord.

"Oh Primus! No! No no no no!" Slipgear screamed when he realised Dreadvein's intent. Fear engulfed Slipgear, his instincts for survival kicked into action. He shoved his servos as hard as he could against Dreadvein's chest, trying to push him away, at the same time attempting to bring his legs up to protect himself. Dreadvein chuckled sadistically. Being taller and stronger than Slipgear gave him an advantage over the younger mech.

Slipgear finally got his legs up between him and Dreadvein, kicking with all the force he could muster. The force was enough to separate their frames and shove Dreadvein a few feet from him. The minute he felt himself free he darted for the door. Dreadvein roared as he pursued Slipgear, grabbed him around the waist, and threw him onto the floor with brutal force. He grabbed Slipgear's wrists in his one hand, pushed them up behind his head. Slipgear still kicked and squirmed as Dreadvein forced his superior weight down on top of Slipgear, pinning his legs down. Slipgear struggled harder, desperate to free himself, choking in horror and despair as he valiantly fought. The overseer was thoroughly enjoying himself. Who knew this little wretch could put up such a fight. Oh that just turned him on some more. The overseer's free hand started prying at Slipgear's interface panel. Slipgear screamed as his interface panel was finally clawed open.

The overseer grinned wickedly as he removed his cable. This was going to be fun.


	8. Chapter 8

Here is chapter 8. This story is heading to the end of its first installment This chapter was difficult to write for various reasons, but I hope you enjoy. Reviews would be appreciated.

My thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter -**SkylarJolane, SunnySidesofBlue, writergurl616, DemonSurfer, **and **Mayday.** You make this story an absolute pleasure to write! ^_^ My sincere thanks also goes to **IAmStartscream** and **Patty** for helping with the littl' things.

**WARNING: rating M for mature themes in this chapter. You have been warned.**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OCs.

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Chapter 8

Something was wrong. Very wrong. He could feel it, sense it. The shadows dancing on the walls seemed to mock him with every step he took. He hurried along the tunnels of level five, his optics searching.

Slybit was worried. He couldn't see the kid anywhere. He couldn't see the overseer either, and that was very bad. _Damn Slipgear, don't fragging tell me you did something stupid again. I'll kill you if you compromise the plan._

Slybit glanced over his shoulder, his audios catching the soft sound of stealthy footsteps. A guard was following him, keeping to the shadows. Slybit stopped and turned, eyeing the guard with unadultered disdain and pure arrogance. The guard stopped for an astrosecond, not willing to believe a slave would dare look at him like that. He cursed before resuming his pace towards Slybit, his faceplate set with malicious intent. He was going to rip this slave apart, damn his orders to bring him in alive. Throwing carefulness to the wind, the guard made a straight line for Slybit.

Slybit sneered at the the guard was out on pure lustful intent or simply took a fancy to strolling down the mine corridors following designationless slaves, he knew the plan had been compromised. Well then, if fate had forced their hand, he would play it. He turned down into one of the depleted side tunnels.

"You there! Slave! Stop!" the guard yelled at him.

Slybit didn't stop. He could feel the thrill of the chase building in him, his energon boiling in his veins in the anticipation of a fight. He savoured the feeling.

The snarled at his impudence and sprinted after him, drawing his energon blade as he turned down the cold, empty corridor. He could barely see Slybit ahead him until he adjusted his optics to allow for the darkness. Slybit had slowed to a walk, his back towards the guard. He grabbed Slybit's shoulder, yanking him around to face him. "How dare you!" he bellowed.

Slybit had been waiting for that move. He grabbed the guard's wrist and twisted it round his back, forcing the guard face-first into the wall. The guard let out a surprised cry, but it was quickly smothered when Slybit grabbed him around his neck, digging his claws into the guard's vocal box, effectively silencing him. The guard tried to throw him off, but Slybit only increased pressure to his wrist until he stopped struggling.

"No one calls me slave and lives! Now tell me, before I have the pleasure of killing you, why were you following me?" he demanded in a quiet, deadly tone. As much as he felt the need to maul this piece of scrap into barely useable parts, he didn't want to attract more guards.

The guard tried to make a sound, but only succeeded in screeching, undistinguishable noises. Slybit released his energon stained claws from the guards neck, allowing him to speak.

"Frag you slave!"

Slybit grabbed the guard's head, slamming it with a satisfying crunch into the wall. When he pulled the guard's head back, energon was freely streaming from the gaping hole left under his crest.

"Unless you want me to make your death very slow and very painful, as you probably deserve, you will tell me what I want to know, now." Slybit canted his head to the side as if considering something, then smiled at the guard. "I can always rip the information from your mind, even though I don't normally like interfacing with scrap, I think I can make an exception in this case." Slybit toyed around the guard's interface panel for emphasis.

The guard shivered. He had grossly underestimated this slave, and he knew he was going to pay for it.

"Spare me, and I will tell you all you need to know." The guard gasped over his shoulder in a bid to save his own metal. Slybit paused, making a show of considering the matter. He was utterly disgusted at the cowardness displayed by the guard. He had been hoping for a little bit more fight. He leaned his head next to the guard's audio. "Agreed. Start talking."

"Dreadvein, the overseer, sent me to find you and bring you to him. I-I had to bring you unharmed. Something about you planning something. That's all I know, I- I swear" The guard managed to stammer.

Slybit narrowed his optics. He had thought as much, but now he knew for a fact their plan was screwed. He had to get the kid. They had to get out, and they had to do it now.

"Only me?" he asked the guard, who shook his head. "No, there was someone else, but the overseer said he was going to see to him personally."

Slybit's thoughts flew by a mile a breem. So if the overseer had gone after Slipgear, could he already have him? Was it even worth risking his metal for the kid? _Frag. _"Where were you supposed to take me?" The guard pursed his mouthplates together, remaining stubbornly quiet as he was pushed into the wall. If he could just get his hand out holding his blade…

Slybit applied more pressure to the guard's wrist, twisting it up. The guard's back arched in pain, his mouth opening but no sound escaping. A sickening crack ripped through the air as searing pain shot up his shoulder, his arm falling limp to his side.

Slybit swung the guard around, throwing his back against the wall, leaning in so that their foreheads nearly touched. Fuelled by pain and fury, the guard spotted his chance to strike and took it. His servo came up quickly, clutching the blade hard as he aimed for the slave's sparkchamber. Slybit saw the move and cursing grabbed the blade, twitching it around. The guard's optics widened in shock and pain as the blade slipped between layers of protective plating, spurting energon as energon lines and wiring were severed on contact..

Slybit eyed him mercilessly, slowly pushing the blade deeper.

"You don't know?" he asked dangerously, once again squeezing the guard's vocals, while twisting the blade. The guard moaned.

"Entrance…to level…five." The guard managed to gasp, his optics dimming and brightening as warning signs flashed across his vision.

"That's a good mech." Slybit said removing his energon-stained claws from the mechs vocals, and giving him an affectionate pat on the cheek. His hand clamped down on the mechs mouth, while his other yanked the blade out of the guard's abdomen.

He looked the terrified guard in the eyes, who began shaking his head, optics wide with the knowledge of what was about to happen. Slybit smiled sadistically, reviling in the moment of complete control. He plunged the blade into the guard's chest, straight into his sparkchamber. The guard's body went rigid with pain, then completely limp.

Slybit withdrew the blade, dropping the dead guard's frame. He tucked the blade into his leg compartment, he might need it again. This was it. There was no turning back now. He had to think fast. Their plan had obviously leaked, so why had only the one guard come after him. He was a convicted killer, surely they were aware of his lethal abilities._ Unless, unless only the overseer – Dreadvein, as the guard had called that fragger – knew at this point._ At least that played in his favour. If that fragger was waiting for them at the entrance to level five, he could slip up another tunnel without notice. Though that would only buy him a short amount of time, it was time he could put to valuable use.

He gave one last look at the guard, then bolted for the tunnel entrance. He stopped before he reached it. Cautiously he peered around the corners, scanning for spark signatures as he did so. No overseer or guard in sight. Good. He stepped out and headed towards the entrance of level five. _What the frag am I doing? _He paused. Why was he going after the kid? He had a clear shot. The guard's death and the overseer's lack of knowing would buy him valuable time, to go after the kid would lose him valuable time. _Slag._

Slybit sighed deeply. Cursing that son of a half-bit glitch, he ran for tunnel entrance five, wishing he could access his altmode, but there wasn't room. Slaves stopped their work momentarily to glance at the running frame. Slybit didn't care. Two guards usually ruled a tunnel branch, under supervision of the overseer. If he had killed one, then the other would be with Dreadvein. And if they already had Slipgear, Primus knows what they could do to him, what information they could glean from that half-bit.

Slybit reached the guard room. The second guard stood in front of the door, leaning his optic against the cold metal surface, eavesdropping on the occupants inside. The moment he caught sight of Slybit bolting towards him, he came on guard, weariness and suspicion written clear over his rigid frame.

"I have to see the overseer. A tunnel has collapsed in quadrant 2 of tunnel 5. Think there're two mechs stuck beneath! Sirens' ain't working!" Slybit lied. The guard relaxed his stance somewhat, not disturbed in the least that a tunnel has just collapsed somewhere.

"The overseer is currently busy and doesn't wish to be distur..."

A shrill, desperate cry ripped through the air.

_Slipgear_.

Slybit didn't think, just reacted. He rammed into the distracted guard, knocking him to the ground. The guard tried to pull his gun from his holster, but Slybit had already drawn his blade. He plunged the blade into the guard's faceplate, embedding it in his right optic. Energon squirted through the wound, coating Slybit's chassis. He yanked the blade out, ready to strike again. But Slipgear's scream halted him. He jumped at the door's control panel.

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Slipgear struggled hard against the overseer. He was too weak, his injuries still too painful, he couldn't fight the menacing beast looming over him anymore. His interface panel ripped open, Slipgear gave a last desperate struggle as Dreadvein prepared his plunge his cable in without mercy.

Slipgear screamed as the connection was made. Primus it hurt! Worse than the Pit, worse than the whipping. Their magnetic fields played havoc upon one another. He could feel the overseer's mind racing into his, synchronising with his, tearing him apart, ready to take his fill of pleasure. And Slipgear was helpless to stop him. Dreadvein moaned in pleasure. Slipgear groaned in pain. His vents heaved uncontrollably as they tried to cool down his terror-filled interior.

Suddenly Dreadvein's frame was dragged off of him, their connection severed. He vaguely made out a strangely familiar voice as his processor tried to readjust to the sudden change.

"...fragged pit-hound may you rot in the arms of Unicron himself!"

"Slybit?" Slipgear croaked, his optics trying to focus on the two shapes in the room.

"Slipgear!"

He was suddenly yanked to his feet, a servo digging into his arm.

"You ok kid!? Fragging glitch, can't believe he tried that! Can't believe you fragged the plan either! We got to move! Quick! We can escape through tunnel 5's entrance, then up shaft 3, into level 3. If we head into quadrant 5, it would take us into the old mine shafts! There's a route leading to the surface, which bypasses levels 1 and 2."

Slybit dragged Slipgear through the room as he spoke. Slipgear tried to make sense of what Slybit said, but his processor wasn't registering anything. Slipgear looked over at the overseer's frame. He had been thrown into the table, energon pooling around his head. _Slag, I hope you're dead!_ Slipgear thought, before losing view of the motionless frame.

Slybit kept hold of Slipgear's arm as he stopped briefly next to the dead guard's frame, ignoring Slipgear's shocked gasp as he took the gun and placed it in his subspace.

"Kid you gotta hold it together if you wanna make it out alive! An' I did not just risk my aft for nothing!" he shook Slipgear.

Slipgear came out of his daze, looking at Slybit, uncertainty and horror burning in his optics. Slybit still gripped his arm.

"Kid I know you're hurting, but we gotta run, or we're dead." Slybit whispered soothingly yet desperately. The look in Slipgear's optics haunted him.

Slipgear nodded. Slybit grabbed his arm again as they started running through the mine. Slybit lead the way. Although he didn't doubt Slipgear's knowledge of the mines, the kid was a mess at the moment.

Slipgear was vaguely aware of the route they were taking, his processor coming to grips with his surroundings. He tried to push the recent memories to the back of his head. He had to focus now. He had to be strong. He could hurt later.

They exited level 5 at the elevator of shaft 3. Flying into the elevator, Slybit slammed the control panel to lock the doors as he keyed in their destination level.

Slybit leaned back against the elevator wall. So far so good. No guards, no alarms. Maybe he had killed Dreadvein. He should have checked. Frag it. He should have dragged the body of the guard into the room as well. He looked over at Slipgear. The kid was leaning against the far side of the elevator, his optics gazing straight ahead, yet not focusing on anything specific. Looking at him. Slybit sighed. He had to admit he felt sorry for the kid. The kid reminded him too much of someone he desperately tried to forget. Someone who was way too innocent for this slagging world. Slybit shook his head. _Don't go there Sly, he's gone._ Slybit consulted the datapad, desperate to keep his mind from wondering up alleys it shouldn't go. He had memorised the maps, but went over them again nonetheless. Besides, it would keep his processor busy.

He placed the datapad back into his subsection, looking at Slipgear.

"Remember, we need to get into quadrant 5. In one of the side tunnels, there is a side shaft that leads to the surface. If we can reach it we're free, only problem is I don't know this area so well. Once out of this place. We can make our way into Blaster City, to a friend of mine. Jackhammer's the glitch's name. He'll be able to hide our sorry afts for a couple of orns."

The elevator came to a grinding halt. The doors slid open, allowing them to step into a completely dark mine corridor. Having been mined of the precious ore, energy had been diverted to the lower levels instead of wasted in the depleted ones.

The alarm sounded.

Slipgear started at the sound, Slybit cursed.

"Time's up!" He breathed.

Slipgear looked around the empty tunnels. He had to get his emotions under control. He knew these mines. He had to take the lead here. It was either freedom now or penalty four later. A soft, gentle breeze flitted down the corridors, wrapping herself around his frame and breathing courage into him. With fins flashing nervously, his body trembling, and a determination he didn't know he possessed, Slipgear motioned for Slybit to follow him down one of the side tunnels closest to the elevator.

"Where are you going? Quadrant 5's this way!"

"I-I know my way around here, grew up in these mines. These were my playground, for my experiments. This is a short-cut to quadrant 5."

Slybit eyed him hesitantly.

"I'm fine! Trust me! I can do this. I want to be free as much as you do!"

Slybit jerked his shoulders back, klicking his neck into place. He gave a curt nod. Y_ou better be right kid!_

They ran as fast as they could. Slipgear wheezed through his vents, his will to escape and live the only thing spurring him on through his pain and fear. He knew this part of the mine. This was where he had first onlined, first laboured under the cruel yoke of the overseer Dreadvein. He knew these mine tunnels like the back of his servo. Yet he couldn't remember any way leading out of quadrant 5 to the surface. He only hoped that Slybit was right. He had to be, he had the maps.

They finally reached quadrant 5.

Slipgear gasped, his vents desperately trying to circulate cooling air through his too hot frame.

"Ok, this is it. Where to now? I don't know of any way escaping out to the surface."

Slybit extracted the datapad containing the maps.

"Look, here it is." He pointed towards a part of the map, Slipgear stared at it for a klik or two. He was still staring at it when they heard the guards. Slipgear froze.

Slybit grabbed him by his collar snapping Slybit's head in his direction, locking optics.

"It's freedom or the Pit. You choose."

There was a moments hesitation as Slipgear reigned in his fear.

"This way!" Slipgear ran towards the tunnel at the back of quadrant 5.

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Dreadvein was fuming. He raised a servo to his faceplate, still slick with energon. That fragger was going to pay for what he did.

He had been yanked of his quarry and sent flying into the table. His head had impacted first, knocking him unconscious and resulting in an ugly gash across his faceplate. The fragging thing had finally stopped oozing energon.

But know he wanted another's energon. He wanted to feel the warmth of it flowing over his servos as he ripped his frame apart piece by piece. And he will have his fun, with both of them. He wanted to hear them scream, beg for mercy, writhe in agony. He wanted them to wish they never heard of the concept escape, and more than anything, he wanted them to wish that they had never thought of crossing him.

They ran into quadrant 5, but their escapees were nowhere to be seen. Four tunnels led out of the quad. Dreadvein and his guards had entered via a fifth. Dreadvein took out is datapad and quickly accessed the mine's maps. _Where are you going way out here? _The datapad quickly pointed out their location in quadrant 5. He panned out, exploring the tunnels that lead out of the quad. His optics caught on a specific side shaft that appeared to lead to the surface. He let out a satisfying chuckle. Perfect. They were headed towards a dead-end.


	9. Chapter 9

Last chapter...this is make it or break it time! ;) No flames please! As a reminder...this story was inspired and based on a series by **DRAGONDANCER5150. **Thanks soooo much! :)

I would LOVE to thank all my reviewers - **DragonDancer5150, Mayday200, and Demonsurfer** and subscribers.Also a huge thanks to IamStarscream who had betta-ed this for me and of course to my dearest friend **Patty** who continued to motivate, inspire and support me through everything! :)

DISCLAIMER I do not own Transformers, Hasbro or anything relating to them. The OC's however are mine! :)

Chapter 9

"A DEAD-END? Are you fraggin' serious!?"

Slipgear retreated at Slybit's furious outburst.

"Maybe the map isn't right?"

"Or maybe you led us out the wrong tunnel!" Slybit spat out. He grabbed the datapad and quickly accessed their position. No. This was the correct tunnel.

"So close, we are so fraggin close to getting out of this pit-spawn place." Slybit said, a thousand emotions in that one voice so utterly full of defeat.

They stared in silent disbelief at the blank wall before them. Despair sank its painful claws into their fragile sparks as the astroseconds slowly slipped by. In the distance the guards' footsteps could be heard marching towards them like the final, steady drumbeat of impending death. They would be there in moments to drag them to their awaiting punishment. But despite knowing this, Slybit and Slipgear stood rooted to the spot.

Slipgear leaned back against the tunnel wall. It couldn't end like this. Not after everything. He couldn't go back, he knew what the overseer, if he was still functional would do. He shuddered at the thought about what he had already done, and if they were brought before the Master... _There has to be a way out! There has to be!_ Slipgear's processor sprang into overdrive, whether propelled by fear, courage or desperation he would never know, the only certainty was that he was not going to live or die in this Pit of despair.

Slipgear raced to the wall, running his scanners over the bear metallic surface.

"What are you doing now?" Slybit murmured, resignation sounding in his voice. The dim light he carried barely illuminated the small side-tunnel they found themselves in.

"Well, figured that the mine maps wouldn't lie. So if it had a tunnel here, what if it is just a cave-in, or if it was deliberately closed so to prevent access to the top? If that's true, there must be a weak-spot somewhere." Slipgear excitedly ran his hands over various parts of the wall, his fins like two beacons of hope flashed brightly against the dark wall.

"Huh, and if you find this weak-spot, what will you do with it? Shove against it? Throw metal debris at? Sure, that will get us out of here."

"I was thinking more like using explosives." Slipgear said, ignoring the sarcasm dripping from Slybit's words.

"Explosives?" Slybit asked scathingly, "Where the frag are you going to get those? Ain't like they're lying around you know." He said with a wave of his arm to indicate the empty tunnel.

"Course not, I'm talking about the explosives I have with me, those you told me to keep with me."

Slybit cocked his head to the side. Come to think of it, he vaguely remembered something like that. A grin broke over his face as hope laced with determination surged up through his lines, unhooking the deadly claws of despair from his spark. Slybit slipped to the tunnel entrance, stretching around the corner, trying to see if the corridor was still safe.

"Ok, this appears to be the weakest spot. If I can plant the explosives in here, then it might be able to blow a hole in here," Slipgear motioned with his hands to the place he indicated. "I only hope the explosives will be strong enough to blast all the way through. I had to make it myself, so I'm not sure how strong the blast would be. It might be safer to get out of the tunnel though."

Slipgear planted four of the six explosives. He decided to keep two just in case they might need it later. He looked at Slybit, motioning him towards the other tunnel, his excitement palpable in the thin air.

Slybit was impressed. He hadn't expected this from the kid at all. He nodded at Slipgear, laying a hand on him. "Those wheels' in your head keep turning, kid. Ye remind me of, of someone I used to know .You'll make a good engineer when we get out of here."

Slipgear looked at Slybit ackwardly as they jogged towards the mouth of the tunnel, not sure what to make of his statement. Nobody had ever _said_ he would make a good engineer, and here it came from somebot he never expected to hear it from. He opened his mouth, but his words caught when the overseer's rough voice call out to the guards that they were close.

Slipgear froze as he looked at Slybit in shock. Dreadvein was _alive_! And he was _here._ Slipgear started trembling, his courage and excitement of moments ago evaporated as that cold, deadly voice reverberated through the tunnels with untold fury.

Slybit grabbed him, dragging him out of the tunnel.

"The device! Get it ready but don't blow it just yet!" he whispered fiercely to Slipgear. He was not going die now.

Slipgear let himself be dragged out the side tunnel into the main corridor. The moment they stepped out of the shadows they were halted by the sight of Dreadvein and the guards. They stopped dead. A terrible gash cut across Dreadvein's face, spilling energon over his grey, powerful frame. His optics glared scarlet in his fury. In the dim lights of their frames, he looked like a pit-hound out of Unicron's lair, ready to steal their sparks and chain them into the merciless blackness of the Pit.

"Well, this has all been rather exciting hasn't it?" He motioned to the guards to stop their advance. "I don't like it when my slaves try to escape from me. Especially not when I'm having so much _fun_ with them." His lust-filled optics locked onto Slipgear's trembling frame.

Slipgear whimpered at his stare as he shrunk into Slybit's shadow. Slybit pushed Slipgear behind him so that he stood between Slipgear and Dreadvein.

"Keep moving back, kid." He whispered.

Slipgear inched his way back into the darkness, staying behind Slybit. The more they retreated, the more Dreadvein and his guards advanced. It was a precarious situation. Slybit knew there was no way they would win a physical battle. They were outnumbered. There were six of them, against the two of them, and judging by the kid's stance, it might as well have been six to one.

"What? You don't have anything to say? You ready to give up so easily? I was hoping you'd show a bit more fight! Or was that little display of foolish courage earlier all you had to offer?" Dreadvein taunted.

"Slybit?" Slipgear asked uncertainly.

"Shut-up, just keep moving back. And when I tell you to detonate, pray to Primus that your device detonates the explosives!"

"What was that? You two care to tell us?" Dreadvein's guards where now across from the side tunnel.

"We're just saying goodbye, you know, good-naturedly like the mechs up top do." Slybit tuned back.

"Well ain't that touchin', saying goodbye to each other. Tsk, don't worry you will be seeing each other for quite some time, though not in the same health as you are now."

Slybit smiled.

"Actually, Dreadvein, I was talking about you guys. Slipgear, now!"

Slipgear activated the device.

There was a blinding flash, followed by searing heat and deafening thunder as the explosives detonated. The tunnels shook with the force of the explosives, raining down molten metal. Slipgear and Slybit slammed into the far wall, knocking them both unconscious for a nanoklik.

All was silent when Slybit onlined his optics. He slowly got up onto his knees, stabilising himself with arms against the cold floor. His frame ached from the impact and his audios rang with an insanely high pitch emanating from somewhere within his head. He turned to Slipgear, touching his shoulder.

"You OK kid?"

"Agh… y-yes, I think so." He moaned

Slybit looked at the tunnel entrance. He saw the bodies of the guards. Lifeless. They had been right in the path of the raging fireball as it funnelled out of its confined tunnel, clawing and destroying everything in its path. The tunnel was still clouded by big, bellowing clouds of smoke as debris littered the floor. He came to his peds slowly, trying to hide his pain as best possible. Slipgear did the same, only his already battered frame did not allow him the grace of hiding his pain.

"Come on, we got to get moving, there will be more fragging guards from where they came from." Slybit pointed over his shoulder at the downed guards.

They walked cautiously over to the side tunnel's entrance while avoiding the debris and closing their vents to the suffocating smoke. Slybit nodded his head in approval. A clean hole had been blasted through the wall where the dead-end use to be, revealing a vertical shaft on the other side.

"Well done kid. Knew your explosives would do the trick. Now, we just need to reach the surface."

"How did you know my explosives would work?"

Slybit eyed him with arched brows.

"I depended on your track record. You have a knack for blowing things up real good."

"Thanks." Slipgear grinned at him, his fins flashing in unadultered delight.

Slybit almost caught himself smiling back. "It wasn't really a slagging compliment." He mumbled turning away from him towards the shaft.

Slipgear let the comment slide. He was glad that his explosives had worked, not only well, but extremely well. He followed Slybit towards the open shaft, past the lifeless gaurds. Neither of them noticed Dreadvein moving.

"We'll head to Jack's place. He'll be able to….Aaaah!" Slybit cried as he suddenly clutched his chassis, energon pouring from between his servos. He fell to his knees, gasping for air as energon streamed from his vents.

"Slybit!" Slipgear screamed in panic as he saw the energon leaking from Slybit's chassis and vents as Slybit rolled onto his side and drew his legs up. Slipgear drew back, appalled by the amount of energon leaking from Slybit's chassis. He glanced up and into the venomous, scarlet eyes of Dreadvein.

He stood at the tunnel entrance, gun aimed straight at Slipgear.

"That, was smart. But the games are done." He hissed.

Slipgear stared at his badly scorched, bleeding frame. The cold tendrils of fear engulfed him once again and he was paralysed by it. The gun was pointing at his abdomen. Dreadvein didn't want him dead, just incapacitated. _I would rather die than go back._ The thought struck hard. He really didn't want to live like this anymore, he chose death a thousand times over living in this pit.

He felt anger rise in him for the first time, engulfing him like the flames of moments ago had engulfed them –hot, searing and destructive. Anger that this, this pit-hound before him had so little regard for life. Anger that another had died trying to help him. Anger that they could not _live_ without torment. The anger boiled up until he could no longer contain it, the words spewing out like hot steam.

"This was never a game! We are not cheap merchandise or sparkless drones. We have a spark, a will of our own. We have a right to live, and by Primus we will live it!"

As the last word fell from his lipplates, the sound of gunfire filled the tunnel. Slipgear flinched as he waited for the impact which never came. Instead Dreadvein was thrown back, his frame tumbling over the dead bodies of his companions while energon spewed from a wound in his chassis.

"Take that you…fraggin son…of a glitch." Slybit spat weakly. His strength was fading fast, his spark fading with every drop of energon he lost. In his hand was the gun he had taken from the guard, nozzle still smoking from the recent discharge. He groaned as he dropped it, covering his wound again.

Slipgear dropped beside him. He tried desperately to staunch the flow of energon as he gently turned Slybit onto his back.

"I-I''ll get you p-patched up r-real quick. Don't w-worry." Slipgear said more to himself as he looked around for something to stem the leakage. Finding nothing, he covered the wounds with his hands.

Slybit gently took hold of Slipgear's hands. Slipgear stared at it for a moment before raising his optics to Slybit's. They held for a couple of nanokliks. Each realising that both of them will be free before the end of the shift, but only one of them _alive. _Slybit smiled sadly at him, giving him a quiet nod.

"Slip…Slipgear, you gotta keep…you gotta keep moving. Gaurds…will be here soon…the explosion…"

"I'm not leaving you!" Slipgear cried as he started gasping for air as dry sobs raked his frame. The alarms were still sounding in the distance, the black smoke clouds still hanging threateningly above them and debris still smouldering. Slipgear ignored it all. He continued to cover the wound with his servos, refusing to acknowledge the inevitable.

Slybit squeezed Slipgear's hands in reassurance.

"Listen to me…you can't stop now…you've come too far…I've known freedom…you…don't. Go." Slybit handed him the datapad, covered in energon. His energon. His optics flickered, dimming dangerously.

"I can't leave you." Slipgear whispered brokenly.

Slybit looked at…_Quanto_? A soft smile spread over his contorted faceplate. "I'm already…dead…kid" he sighed, offlining his optics as his faceplate went slack.

Slipgear didn't move.

"This way! Hurry up you ill-fated pieces of slag!" a shrill voice screamed in the distance

Slipgear jumped up. The guards were coming. He cast one last look at the still frame of…of a _friend_.

"I'll never forget you!" he swore as he turned and sped to the shaft hole, ducking through it. He started climbing as fast as his injured frame would allow him, ignoring the pain, ignoring the thoughts of Slybit. Even when his processor started issuing warnings for him to stop and rest, he continued. He would reach the surface soon. He had to. Slybit had given him his life as payment for his freedom. He would do it for Slybit.

* * *

Intoxica and her guards came upon a scene of utter destruction. The tunnel walls were littered with shrapnel from the blast, still burning in some places. Part of the tunnel was melted due to the fierce heat that had signed it. They didn't notice the hole in the back of the tunnel opening into a shaft as smoke hung low in the smaller tunnel.

They ran over to the downed guards. Most of them were dead. Two of them were miraculously still alive.

Intoxica screamed as she saw the frame of her lover covered in energon mingled with soot.

"Medic! Get over here! Quick!" she screeched.

The medic hurried over as Inotixica moved to hold Dreadvein's head.

"Who is it?"

"Dreadvein! His barely alive."

"There's another one over here!" one of the guards called

* * *

Slipgear reached the surface two cycles later. He was heaving hard, his frame pushed beyond what it was able to give. His processor was shrieking warnings to him. He didn't care. The pain was unbearable. Not of his frame, but of his spark. He fell to his knees. He was free, but Primus the cost had been so high. Too high. Sobs racked his bruised, pitiful frame.

Slipgear looked through dim optics at a glowing light on his servos. He was still sobbing as he looked up and beheld a perfectly round, glowing orange sphere rising over the horizon of the badlands. It was a thousand times brighter than the lights in the mines. _Natural light_. He stared at the rising sun through his moist optics. It was the dawn of a new day.

It was the dawn of his freedom.

* * *

That's it for the first installment. I will begin working on the second installment once I'm done with my new fic, _I'll be There_, featuring Jazz & Prowl. Hoped you enjoyed.

Please review and let me know what you think! :)


	10. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The wind howled over the barren landscape, stirring up rust and other particles in an elaborate dance over the badlands. The scorching sun beat down mercilessly over two figures silhouetted against the edge of the desolate landscape.

"So, Blaster City?" a seductive, lyrical voice purred next to her master's audio as the microbot sat perched on his shoulder.

His flaming, crimson eyes scanned the extent of the badlands, coming to rest in the direction of the infamous city, slowly nodding. A deadly, knowing smile spilt the scarred face and his eyes became narrow points of focus as he turned towards Intoxica, seeing through her into an unknown truth.

"Indeed pet, indeed. And when I find him, he will wish he never saw the light of day."

* * *

And the next installation will be released in 2013 if my country can evade civil war for that long. Thank you to EVERYONE who read, reviewed, favorited and followed this story. Thank you for the encouragement, motivation, and correction. You made writing it a pleasure!

To readers of my other story, I'll be there, if updates are irregular in the next coming weeks, forgive me, as I'll be out of the country for a while and the strikes and unrest in my country is causing some major headaches and anarchy.

For the festive season...enjoy... :)


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